


We're On Each Other's Team

by coolasdicks



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Car Accidents, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolasdicks/pseuds/coolasdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Fill:</p>
<p>"Umm, AHOT6 with Michael centric, or Geoff centric? I just... I loved your Michael one and I think the ot6 needs more of Michael of Geoff centric. Like, worrying over them because they're always the ones worrying over everyone else? I dont even know Im sorry"</p>
<p>and</p>
<p>"I've got a prompt for you! AHOT6, the guys are in the car driving home from the bar one night when they're in a huge car accident. When they are hospitalized, they're all separated from each other due to their various injuries and have to try sneaking around to find out how the others are doing. Feel free to take creative control on the extent of the damages, but I'll be curious to see how you write from each POV. Have with with it, can't wiat to see the results!!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're On Each Other's Team

Michael’s never had a migraine before, but he imagined this was what it was like.

Pain throbbed in heavy beats near his temple, lights bursting and flashing under his eyelids as distant voices bounced around in his skull. A man and women were talking nearby, but none of the words were distinguishable to Michael. His ears were filled with an intense, high-pitched scream, and his hands were pressed against his ears as if it would relieve his pressure. He thrashed around, clutching his head and screaming in agony.

Gloved hands smelling strongly of latex pried his hands away from his face, firmly pinning them to his side as two more grabbed onto his legs before immobilizing them too. Fingers peeled his eye open and flashed a penlight into his pupil, only causing another lance of pain rocketing through his skull. It went away after a few seconds, and he could see the dull silhouette of a stranger’s face hovering above him.

He ripped his arm free of the tight grasp and shoved his hand into the face, feeling a nose crunch under his palm as he tried in vain to push it away. His arm was immediately once more grabbed and held tight against his side. Fingers dug into his forearm, drawing a more pain-ridden scream to tear from his throat.

A different face, this time a woman’s, came into his squinted view.

“If you don’t stop, we won’t hesitate to restrain you,” she warned, pointing a finger at his nose.

He didn’t stop struggling, desperate and scared, unaware of where he was or who he was talking to. The woman seemed to realize this as she said in a loud, clear voice, “You’re at Austin Bard Hospital, and we’re trying to help you!”

He gasped out the words, “Why – why –”

There was a small sting in the crook of his arm, causing him to jerk with a hiss. Narrowing his eyes through the pain in his head, he glanced down to see a male nurse with a bleeding nose giving him the evil eye, a syringe in hand. He grinned.

“It’s just to calm you down,” the female nurse said soothingly. She shooed away the other nurses who had been securing his limbs, the appendages now feeling like sandbags.

“I – I –” Michael stammered, eyes going out of focus. Everything went blurry for a moment before snapping back to normal. He glanced over the nurse’s shoulder, taking in the familiar scene of a busy hospital. He was sitting in the Urgent Care ward, people being treated in beds lining the wall. There were a few more serious cases that Michael could see, such as a man bleeding heavily from his mouth or the woman who had a knife sticking out of her forearm. Michael gulped.

“Sir?” the nurse said, helping Michael sit up more. She had to direct his gaze back to her when his eyes once more began to go out of focus. “Sir?”

“Why am I here?” Michael demanded. His head throbbed, but the pain was slowly ebbing, a sluggish calm seeping into his bloodstream. “Where are – am I hurt? Did I come in with anybody?”

“Tell me if any of this hurts,” the nurse said, completely ignoring his questions as she started to feel up his neck. Her fingers were chilly against his skin as she pushed and prodded. “Do you know your name?”

“Uh –” Michael hesitated. His mind drew a blank.

“Is it Michael Jones?” a male nurse guessed. It was the one who’d stuck him with the needle. The female nurse glared at him over Michael’s shoulder with a deep frown. “What? We have some updates requested for a Michael Jones.”

“That’s me!” Michael said, relieved to recognize his own name. His hands shook as covered his mouth, nervously stroking his lips in thought. He racked his brain for memory of what brought him here, but it was annoyingly blurry and unhelpful.

“You were in an automobile accident. My name is Doctor Becca. You hit your head on the dashboard and the airbags deployed. You weren’t wearing your seatbelt,” she said disapprovingly, feeling along his shoulders. “Tell me if anything hurts,” she reminded him.

“Who else was in the car?” Michael asked, breathing speeding up. He could vaguely recall riding shotgun in Geoff’s van, but he couldn’t place the time and location of that memory.

“There were five other passengers,” Becca answered, rising Michael’s right arm and testing the joint. She grimaced at the large burn splotch on his forearm and gave him a stern look. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Michael said uncaringly, waving her off carefully. “Is everyone alright?”

The male nurse stepped forward to tightly grip his wrist and start cleaning the burn. He scrubbed debris out of the wound, and Michael growled, jerking his arm back in pain, but the nurse didn’t let go until finished.

“You and the driver came in with the most serious injuries,” Becca answered as she flexed his right elbow, fingers gently massaging the bones of his wrist. A sharp pain flared when she shifted around the small bones. “Geoff Ramsey has injuries similar to yours, but he has a broken collarbone.”

Michael had trouble drawing breath. “And the others?” he demanded.

“Minor injuries,” she said comfortingly.

“Minor like what?”

“Scratches and scrapes,” she answered, gently placing a hand on his chest and pushing him to lie on his back. “Tell me if any of this hurts,” she said yet again. Uncaring to his sound of protest, she took a pair of scissors and cut through his rather charred tee shirt. His chest was turning some interesting shades of blue and purple. She avoided most of the bruises as she gently pressed on specific regions of his torso. She was barely to his stomach when Michael lost patience.

“Can I see them?” he asked, sitting up and pushing her hands away.

She glared at him. “No, not while you’re admitted,” she said. “Do you feel any pain?”

“My arm and my head,” Michael said, hoping his truthfulness would earn him some brownie points. He groaned in frustration when she scribbled something down on a clipboard and dropped it into a little bin at the edge of his bed.

“Anything else?” she prompted, eyeballing him. Michael grit his teeth; she was an annoyingly good people-reader and seemed to have him already pegged as a liar.

“No, now can I  _please_ see my boyf– my friends?” Michael said, barely catching himself. His headache was subsiding, an odd clamminess settling over his skin.

She studied him for a long moment, frowning unhappily. “No,” she decided, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I suspect you have a concussion. You didn’t show signs of spinal damage, but I’m ordering a CT scan to check for more serious trauma to the brain.”

Michael gawked at her. “I don’t need any scans!” he said, voice rising. “I need to see the people I came in here with!”

“What you  _need_ is to calm down, Mr. Jones,” Becca said calmly. “Lay back down and I will be back soon to take you to get the scan. If there is no sign of bleeding or intensive bruising, then I’ll see if you can visit your friends.”

“I need to see them!” Michael yelled, scrambling off the bed. “At least tell me they’re okay!” He stumbled forward, losing his balance on shaky legs and falling onto his face, crunching his chin against the tile floor. Pain seared up his jaw and into his temples, reigniting the earlier headache.

Becca helped him to his feet, calling for her coworkers to help. As he struggled, they lifted Michael onto the bed again, but this time Becca was the one wielding a needle. She stuck it straight into his skin, unforgiving as she injected him with a warm, sleepy medicine.

His vision started to fade, and it was all too easy to forget every stress on his mind as he slipped away.

—-

Geoff fucking hated driving.

He sat with a large frown and a nasty glare on a bed in his newly assigned room, having been admitted for the night in this damn hospital. It was quiet and dimly lit in the small room, only one bed by the window, the beautiful view a little ruined by the brick wall in front of it.

He itched mindlessly at the skin under his sling, wincing at the pain the movement caused. His collar bone was fractured; any shift of his right arm felt as if someone was jamming an ice pick in the soft spot of his shoulder. There was only slight discoloration and no real visible injury, but Geoff was savoring the IV pumping painkillers into his body.

His mind was restless, however, with worry for the rest of his boys. He’d yet to see or talk to them, only hearing for certain that everyone was alive. No one had died in the four-car pile-up, their van having been smack in the middle of the pandemonium. Geoff had tried to swerve and avoid rear-ending the car in front of them, but had only succeeded to nail another one head first. He was just lucky he had his seatbelt.

He’d smacked his head on the steering wheel and blacked out, but the docs said there was no sign of a serious concussion. He remembered the accident and wasn’t having any symptoms of a brain injury, but broken glass had cut up his face a bit and he’d suffered a single broken bone. Pretty good for a head on collision.

He could hit himself, if the movement to do so didn’t hurt so much. A car full of his lovers, his most favorite people in the world, and he went and drove them straight into a car accident. His palms were sweaty and throat dry with the thought of even one of them not being okay.

His door suddenly opened, making him jump. His earlier doctor was walking into the room, face grim. Geoff’s heart skipped a beat.

“What?” he said quickly. “Is everyone okay? You said everyone was okay!”

“No, no,” Doctor Bailey said quickly, raising his hands in a calming gesture when Geoff’s heart monitor began speeding up. “There were no deaths and no serious injuries,” he reassured him. At Geoff’s relieved nod, he held up a clipboard. “I have a few names listed here –”

“What are they?” Geoff interrupted, sitting up.

“Uh – Jack Pattillo, Reynold Fitburg, Ray Narvaez, Ryan Haywood, Charlie Stewart, Michael Jones, Gavin Free, and Chloe Heinz.”

“Jack, Ray, Ryan, Michael, and Gavin!” Geoff said excitedly. “Those were in my car.”

The doctor smiled, tucking the clipboard back under his arm. “I don’t have many details,” he said, “But I know that no one is seriously injured. There were only two broken bones, one being yours and the other the young lady Chloe Heinz.”

He grinned, relief almost as good as the morphine. “Thank god,” he sighed, leaning back against the pillows. His shoulder twinged. “Can I see them?” Geoff asked hopefully.

Bailey shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we need to get that X-Rayed,” he said, pointing at Geoff’s shoulder. “Make sure that it’s a clean fracture. If not, then you might need surgery. It doesn’t look like anything to worry about, though, so don’t stress it. We’ll take you in a few minutes.”

Geoff nodded, eye-lids heavy. “I don’t suppose you could get the details? About my friends?”

“I’m afraid they aren’t on my rounds. I can ask around for who has them, but in all the chaos, it would take a while to find them. Since there are no deaths, it will be harder to get in touch with other patients.”

Geoff nodded, resigned. He understood that Bailey was just trying to do his job. Still had to try though, so in one last-ditch effort, he said, “Any chance I can get up and walk around?”

Bailey almost laughed. “Good try,” he said, smiling as he closed the door behind him, effectively sealing Geoff into his small, white prison.

At least his boys were okay.

—-

Gavin was not okay.

Holding an icepack to his head, he glowered at the nurse checking his heart rate and breath sounds. “Is this really necessary?” he asked bitingly, shifting the pack so it rested over his freshly blackened eye. “I can breathe fine, there’s no pain in my chest.”

He could see the nurse roll her eyes. Smartly, she didn’t answer. After having to deal with Gavin for the last four hours, Gavin could tell she was beginning to learn from her mistakes of arguing with him.

“What I’m really worried about,” he said conversationally into the stethoscope, smirking when she flinched. “Is my friend Geoff.”

She sighed. “I haven’t heard anything about Mr. Ramsey,” she said for the forth time since speaking to the Brit.

Gavin pouted, unease tightening his gut. Everyone else had seemed okay, if not a little dazed, after the crash, but Geoff had shouted in pain when he went to unbuckle his seatbelt. Gavin couldn’t see the front two seats from all the way in the back, and they’d been separated after arriving at the hospital, Gavin and Jack the only ones allowed to come without the aid of medical personnel. Geoff, Michael, Ray, and Ryan had been taken in ambulances directly here, but they hadn’t been around to ride with them, which Gavin supposed was understandable, but now they weren’t even letting them know what was wrong.

Jack had been whisked away by a pair of burly nurses, leaving Gavin to grumbled and hiss under his breath as  _his_ nurse, a young twenty-something year old with angry blue eyes, felt along what felt like every centimeter of his skin, pressing at each of his bruises and probably bloody enjoying the quiet, pained sound he would make.

“Ouch!” Gavin finally yelped when she pressed on a particularly nasty blue splotch on his wrist. He yanked it back and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “That hurts!”

“I need to see if you have any severe bleeding,” the nurse said with little to none empathy.

“I’m very clearly not bleeding,” Gavin said.

“Bleeding internally,” the nurse said after a beat. Gavin stared at her, mouth agape.

“You just want to hurt me!” he cried.

The nurse rolled her eyes, but backed off. “Please,” she scoffed, sounding very unprofessional. “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Free.” She sighed. “I don’t think you have anything serious wrong with you, except for your brain perhaps.”

Gavin stared at her. “You can’t say things like that!”

She continued with paused, picking up the clipboard and scribbling down a few notes. “You’re not admitted,” she said with finality. “Now how would you like to pay?”

“Take me to Geoff,” Gavin demanded.

“Do you have insurance?”

“I have Geoff.”

“That doesn’t answer my question in the slightest.”

“Actually, it does,” Gavin said loudly. “Geoff is my – I live with Geoff, he the one that knows all that stuff.”

She stared at him. “You’re twenty-five, aren’t you?” she said, checking the chart. “And you live with another full grown man?”

Gavin’s cheeks flushed, but he was determined to not be embarrassed. “I live with five!” he said angrily, annoyed at her shocked expression.

“What –” she shook her head, turning her wide-eyed gaze to the chart in her hands. She cleared her throat and said, “Alright. I’m not going to admit you, but you’re to sit here until we get this straightened out. Mr. Ramsey’s in X-Rays right now –”

“I thought you said you hadn’t heard anything!”

“And he won’t be out until they’re done, which can take up to an hour,” she finished, simply talking over his outburst. “Do not get up and walk around,” she told him, stepping closer threateningly. “Do not touch any of the machines around you. Do not talk to other patients and doctors. Do not push any buttons. Do not even  _look_ at those buttons. Do you understand?”

Gavin grumbled out a surly, “Yeah,” before watching her leave and sliding off the bed, wincing at the sore muscles in his legs as he stood shakily. He’d been in the far back of car when the collision happened, violently thrown into Ryan’s seat in front of him. He had been wearing a seat belt but it didn’t feel like it did anything to protect his face; a big purple bruise was developing around his eye, the eyelid puffy and blue. His nose, thankfully, hadn’t been broken, but it was sore to the touch and had bled onto his shirt. Ray hadn’t been so lucky to hit a seat, inside violently slung forward, the restriction of the seatbelt resulting in his neck being wiped back and forth. Gavin had watched the entire accident happen, unfortunately given a front row seat to everyone’s injuries, save for Michael and Geoff, who had been blocked from his vision by the airbags.

His ears were still ringing from the sound of the explosion of the white bags as he shuffled his feet along the floor. His arms were aching as he adjusted his jeans, thankful that they hadn’t put him in a gown. They’d only just gotten there, and he wasn’t sure who had been admitted and who hadn’t.

The hospital floor was busy. There were stretchers being wheeled left and right, their users ranging from looking perfectly fine to being deathly pale and bleeding from the head. He didn’t recognize any faces as he searched the crowds, desperate to see a big furry beard, a mop of red curls, or a sparse patch of facial hair.

He roamed around, and no one bothered him. Doctors and nurses alike brushed by, too preoccupied with their patients to worry about him. Gavin was peering over heads and craning his neck to find at least one of his lovers.

His relief finally came when he saw Ray reclined in a bed almost all the way across the room. He practically ran through the swarms of people, carelessly shoving people out of the way in his rush, heart hammering. Ray was lying back with eyes closed, a large neck brace keeping his head in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position.

“Ray!” Gavin called out, struggling to worm his way through the thick stream of people blocking him from Ray’s bed. The Puerto Rican’s eyes popped open and started darting frantically around.

“Vav?” Ray croaked, grinning when he caught site of the Brit. Finally managing to free himself from the thick mob of people, Gavin scuttled to Ray’s side, grabbing his hand and squeezing.

“What’s wrong with you?” Gavin asked bluntly, eyes worriedly raking over the younger’s body. “Is your neck broken?”

Ray rolled his eyes and smiled, shaking his head slightly. “No, they’re just taking some annoying precautions. Making sure I don’t have a neck injury or anything.”

Gavin nodded, looking relieved. Ray was responsible and wouldn’t lie to him, even if the neck brace looked scary and intimidating. “Have you seen the others?” he asked desperately.

“No,” Ray said tightly, looking irritated. “And no one knows whose patient is whose, so no one’s been telling me anything either.” Ray looked at him, studying the black eye with a grimace. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m not even admitted,” Gavin said smugly. “Just a few cuts and scrapes. I guess I, uh, got pretty lucky, getting that seat and all.” He guiltily regarded the neck brace, biting his lip. He’d fought for that seat tonight and for once he’d managed to get the working AC one. What great timing.

“Don’t look at me like that, Vav,” Ray said rolling his eyes again. “I’m fine. This thing itches a little bit, but I feel totally normal, if not a bit tired. If I get up and move around, though, my nurse said she’ll scalp me, and my hair is finally looking normal again after that shitty haircut. Go find Jack! He came in with you, and he probably knows more than I do.”

“I can’t find  _anybody,_ ” Gavin said with exasperation, taking a seat on the stool next to Ray’s bed. “I’ve already tried.”

“Oh, so you mean I  _wasn’t_ your first choice?” Ray asked, sounding hurt. His eyes, however, twinkled with mirth.

“Shut it,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes and giggling. “I was trying to find Geoff, first, actually.”

Ray went quiet. Gavin studied his face, noting the frown lines that had appeared on his forehead. “Are you worried?” he asked in a soft voice.

Ray seemed to think about his answer. “No,” he decided. “It was just a stupid car accident. There’s no way the Achievement Hunters can be taken out in such a dumb way.”

Gavin nodded in agreement, but even as Ray said the words, the Puerto Rican’s hand was turned so his palm was facing up. An invitation.

Thankful for the warm, reassuring touch, Gavin slid his hand into Ray’s, squeezing tightly and not letting go.

—-

They made Jack sit in the waiting room.

The doctor who’d checked him out had been plenty thorough, but since Jack had no real injuries or signs of anything serious, he was discharged almost immediately. He had no choice but to leave the ER, having no excuse to stay. Since he wasn’t married to any of his lovers, and he wasn’t related by blood, he wasn’t allowed to visit them yet. He barely heard any word on how they were in the first place.

Fairly sure he was going insane, Jack sat in an uncomfortable waiting room chair, hunched over with his head in his hands. The room was filled with low murmurs as the families of those injured gentle consoled each other, and Jack was a little sick with himself when he recognized the pangs of jealousy. He had no one to comfort him, all of those whom he cared about being the ones stuck here in the first place.

“Jack!” a familiar voice shouted. Jack jolted in his seat, looking around the room wildly until he met Ryan’s relieved gaze. The blonde was wearing a hospital gown and limped towards him, arms outstretched.

Uncaring of the strangers around him, Jack leapt from his chair to envelop Ryan in a tight hug, tears pricking his eyes as he held the man against him. Ryan’s shoulders shook as they pulled apart.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked him, eyes searching the blonde’s face as a big thumb stroked the soft skin of his cheekbone. Ryan smiled and nodded.

“I’m completely fine,” he said. “Why are you out here? It took me hours to find you!”

“I’m not married to you guys so I have no visitor’s rights,” Jack said bitterly. He had to take a few deep breaths to shake of the resentful thoughts. “What’s wrong with your leg? Are you supposed to be out here, walking around on it?”

Ryan shrugged and said, “It’s nothing. A tiny sprain from just being yanked around. We really got lucky, though, being in the middle seats. I could see Gavin in the ER and he had one helluva black eye. I didn’t see Michael, Ray, or Geoff though, but I heard someone had a broken bone –”

Jack cut him off with another hug, and felt Ryan cling to him. They shared each other’s warmth for a long five minutes, just holding one another and reveling in the support.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked him, mouth pressed into his shoulder.

Jack nodded despite Ryan not being able to see it. “I’m fine, barely even a bruise.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get that scratched up either,” Ryan said weakly. He pushed away gently from Jack. “Can’t you, uh, talk to the front desk and ask how they’re doing?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you?”

“Well… I’m not actually supposed to be out here,” Ryan admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t look at me like that, Jack.”

Jack shook his head. “What are you doing out here? Go back and rest! The doctors say that for a reason. You’re going to hurt your ankle if you move around on it.”

“It barely hurts,” Ryan said. “I’ll go back when you tell me the others are alright.”

“Ryan, don’t you think I’ve been trying to figure that out for the past four hours?” Jack asked. “They won’t tell me anything!”

Ryan looked disappointed but nodded. “Guess I’ll have to find them on my own then.”

It was a trick. Jack  _knew_ it was a trick. And yet –

“No you aren’t. I’m coming with.”

—-

Michael fucking despised this hospital.

“You fuckers!” he screamed, trashing wildly, burning pain flaring on his wrists with every tug. The binds around his arms and legs kept him strapped to the bed, the padded material doing nothing to soften the harm done with his struggle. His chest was bared to the nippy air, his shirt having been cut off by the lady from early who’d dumped him here. “What the fuck is wrong with you! This psycho bitch hospital is crazy – fucking let me out of here!”

His voice was hoarse with panic and overuse, the blood in his veins now completely clean and allowing pain to wash over his chest and stomach with everything breath. He couldn’t believe they were doing this to him – what the fuck kind of hospital restrains car crash victims?

“Help!” he shrieked. It was the first time for him to call for aid, but he wasn’t exactly directing it towards the hospital staff. In fact, he was unsure as to who it was aimed at. He knew none of his boyfriend could hear him, as he’d been taken to a secluded room in the hospital, away from the other patients to keep him from scaring them. “Help me!

“Fuck – somebody help me!” he wailed, voice cracking. Rage bubbled just under his pink skin, flesh warn and torn as he fought with his bindings. The medication had worn off hours ago, and the nurse had told him that they couldn’t afford to inject him with anything stronger because of the damage that might’ve been done to head. He knew his behavior was probably just convincing them that he had head trauma or perhaps brain damage, but his anger fueled him until he finally ran out of energy.

Someone must’ve noticed the sudden silence. The door to his room opened and the tired-looking nurse who’s had the pleasure dealing with him came in.

“Are you done?” Becca asked. Michael knew he should feel bad about the bags beneath her eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Are you going to let me out now?” he asked, voice rough. His throat burned with each inhale.

“Mr. Jones, you need to calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you fuckheads stop acting like motherfucking psychopaths!” Michael yelled, throwing his head back on the bed, the pillow having fallen to the floor long ago. His chest hurt every breath due to his fierce screaming, and his stomach was in knots. His right wrist was swollen in the leather cuff strapped to the bed, agony lancing up his arm every time that he moved it. His back, bare against the material of the bed, was rubbed raw from so much wriggling.

Becca sighed and began to back out of the room, clearly unwilling to listen to Michael’s filthy-worded rants. Michael’s heart sped up. “N-no, wait!” he cried out.

She halted at the door and looked back at him, clearly surprised.

“I – I… can I get my head scanned now?” he said in a small voice, biting back any curse words. “Then can I go see my bo – my friends?”

The nurse shook her head in disbelief. “Are you normally like this?” she asked him while stepping closer. Michael could see the key to his bonds in her hand, the silver glinting under the bright lights.

“Yeah,” Michael admitted, staring up at her pitifully. He could feel his brown eyes watering, but what she didn’t know was that it was from the pain in his stomach. It rivaled the stinging in his wrist as she gave in and uncuffed the restraints.

“Don’t attack me,” she warned him, looking cautious as he sat up.

Feeling a little offended, Michael sniffed. “I wouldn’t hit you,” he said, feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Are you going to help me now?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” she said indignantly. Helping him sit up, Becca checked his pulse by placing cold fingers to his neck. Making a tutting noise, she said, “A little fast.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Michael said scathingly. He tugged his arm free from her grasp and stood up, feeling lightheaded. For a second, he thought he was about to puke but managed to swallow the bile rising in his throat. “Scan now?” he said dizzily.

“Scan now,” she agreed, and guided him out of the room with a firm grip on his elbow.

She was sneaky. Michael realized too late that she’d purposefully taken him down the back hallways, away from any busy portions of the hospital to avoid him spotting one of his boyfriends – or in her mind, friends – and running off. It was too late; he was already through the scanning room’s doors, the large steel slabs slamming behind him when the light bulb went off.

“Hey,” Michael said, frowning and turning around to look at her. “Did you – did you do that on purpose?”

Becca smirked. “Do what?” she said innocently, not expecting an answer. Throwing a fresh hospital gown at him, she did a once over of his clothes with her eyes, looking critical. “Strip down,” she instructed. “Do you want to keep those clothes? They’re a little trashed.”

Michael glanced down at his messy state. His pants and shoes were indeed looking ‘trashed’: full of holes from the explosion of the airbags, some blood dripped here and there among the scorch marks, probably a result from a bloody nose. His nose  _had_ been feeling awfully tender.

“Uh – I, I guess I won’t keep them,” Michael said awkwardly. She stood and waited for him to undress, looking impatient. “Can you like… turn around or something?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen my fair share of penises, and I’m not going to phased by yours.”

“You’re a doctor?” Michael said surprised. “I thought you were a – wait, so why are you tending to me? I don’t need surgery.”

“You don’t know how a hospital works,” she sighed. “I’m not a surgeon, I’m a resident. I take care of patients, too, but I’m not constantly in surgery. Now, get undressed.”

Michael flushed red as he began to tug his pants down. When he bent to pull them and his shoes off completely, he was hit with an intense wave of dizziness. Swaying slightly, he lost his balance completely when a separate wave of nausea washed over him. He barely kept it down, almost blowing chunks all over the scanning room as he put a hand against the wall to stable himself.

The room looked like a lot like it did on TV sets he saw on television shows; big and practically empty save for a closed off glass square in the corner where the doctor sat. There was a large, white cylindrical metal donut sticking out from the wall, a sliding gurney pulled out and ready for him to hop on. He swallowed at the intimidating sight. He wanted nowhere near that machine.

He turned around to take off his boxers, cheeks bright pink when he was completely bared to the room.  _At least she’s professional_ , he thought when she didn’t comment. He pulled the gown over his head and made sure it covered his bare backside as she took his dirty clothes and threw them into the trash.

“Alright. Now lay here,” she said, directing him to the CT machine and patting the bench. He shivered as he lay back against it, the material of the table cold against his skin. She fiddled with some controls and manipulated his body, mainly arms and head, into the position she wanted before retreating to her little black room, setting up the imaging computers. The contraption around his head whirred to life, a quiet but persistent hum starting up in his ears

Her voice was loud and crackly over the speaker in the machine. “Okay. Can you hear me alright?”

“Yeah,” Michael grimaced when the sound grated against his eardrums. He still felt slightly sick, but lying horizontally helped ease the pit in his stomach.

“Don’t move,” she said. It sounded like she was concentrating. “Hm. Everything looks alright. No bleeding, no fractures…”

She fell silent as she continued to rake through each image. Michael rolled his eyes. It was like she wanted something to be there.

“Okay,” she said, sounding surprised. “Damn. I guess you win.”

“Damn right I do,” Michael said smugly, pushing away from the machine and sitting up. The machine clicked off as she shut down the computers.

“I think I won a bit, too,” she grinned at him. Collecting his clipboard from the table, she wrote down a few things as Michael stared at her in confusion. She glanced up at him, smirking. “CT’s don’t require hospital gowns,” she told him. “But I definitely enjoyed the view.”

Michael sputtered, red in the face.

“Cute butt,” she winked.

Michael had no idea what was going on.

_Is she hitting on me?_

“C’mon, Mr. Jones,” she said conversationally, taking him by the elbow and leading him towards the door, “I was wrong; your head is fine. Physically, at least. Still, we made a deal. No signs of trauma and I’ll see about your friends. But first, we have to get you back to your room. Most people keep their underwear on under the gown, and while I’m glad you feel comfortable, it’s best kept behind closed doors.”

—-

“Damn it!” Jack said, stopping just short of the large metal doors. A light turned on above the room signaling that it was now in use and couldn’t be entered. The bearded man just barely refrained from slamming his fists on the doors.

“What?” Ryan asked breathlessly, jogging to keep up with Jack. His was limping heavily, looking sweaty and pale. “What was that?”

“I saw Michael,” Jack answered. “He looked okay!”

“Well, then, that’s good!” Ryan said brightly, gaining back some of his color as he leaned against the wall. Jack instantly felt bad.

“Sorry about that, Ryan,” he apologized, helping the other stand steady on two feet. “You should probably rest it. It’s looking a bit swollen.”

Ryan made a noise of displeasure, but Jack knew he was a rational man. There was no reason to worry - they’d already been told that there were no deaths or serious injuries, aside from a few broken bones, and those would heal. Though he made a face, Ryan allowed Jack to lead him to a cot that was out of the way or the bustle but still close to the scanning room doors.

“If he’s getting a scan,” Ryan said thoughtfully, “and he was in the front seat, that probably means he has a concussion. I doubt anything could crack that thick head of his. I have a sprained ankle because I just twisted it wrong when we yanked forward from the sudden stop. You and me are probably fine because we were in the middle seats. Geoff and Michael probably knocked their heads on the dashboard. I’m not sure about Ray and Gavin, though.”

Jack nodded in agreement, glad that Smart Guy Ryan had come up with optimistic, but realistic conclusions. “I came in with Gavin, and since you saw him in the ER still, he’s probably fine. Not admitted or anything.”

Ryan looked thoughtful. “So Geoff’s the one with the broken bone,” he murmured.

“Maybe it was someone in other cars.”

Ryan shook his head. “They told me it was Chloe Heinz or something like that, and a guy with tattoos. Wait - that could mean Michael has the broken bone. Fuck -”

“Don’t worry about it now,” Jack interrupted, looking away from Ryan, who was beginning to get himself worked up. His eyes raked over the ER room. “I’m sure everyone’s fi - there’s Ray!”

Ryan looked up sharply at his call. “Where?”

Jack took off, shoving his way violently until he was next to the younger man. The Puerto Rican was laying on a cot with his eyes closed, a large neck brace taking up most of the view. His cheeks were squished up a bit from the fabric.

“Ray,” Jack whispered, trying not to startle the other awake. As soon as Ryan limped over, Ray’s eyes fluttered open. “Ray,” Jack said again, relieved. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m totally fine,” Ray said earnestly. “What time is it? I was supposed to have a scan. Oh, wait, now I remember, I already took one. Nevermind.”

Jack and Ryan exchanged a worried expression. Ray must’ve caught it, because he quickly said, “Are you two okay? Ryan, you’re looking a little rough.”

Ryan held up a hand and waved him off dismissively. “Totally fine,” he assured him. “So you took a scan? Did they find anything?”

“No,” Ray said. “Actually - I think I can take this thing off now. Can you help me sit up, Jack? My back muscles are a little fucked up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack said immediately, assisting the younger to prop up against the pillows. He gently pushed Ray’s shaky fingers away from the Velcro latches and undid them himself, peeling off the brace and setting it on the bed.

“Whew,” Ray said, looking relieved. “That is annoying as hell.” Gesturing with one hand towards the contraption now abandoned on the bed, he rubbed the back of his neck with the other. “My neck was perfectly fine to start with.”

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked.

“I’m totally fine,” Ray said seriously. He nodded in reassurance when Jack gave him a prolonged gaze.

Jack leaned forward to peck him on the mouth, giving his cheek a soft pat. Pulling back, Jack sighed. “Have you seen anyone else?”

“Well, I know that Gav went to find you guys,” Ray frowned. “You didn’t see him?”

“It’s crowded as hell in here,” Ryan said. “So then you’ve seen Gavin – anyone else?”

Ray shook his head, brow furrowing. He looked abruptly concerned, obviously having hoped that Jack and Ryan had information.

“They’re fine,” Ryan was quick to reassure, patting Ray’s jean-clad thigh. “We just can’t find them in all the chaos.”

“Mr. Haywood!” an unfamiliar, sharp voice barked. Jack froze, while Ryan cringed and turned slowly, looking apprehensive. Jack glanced at him before turning around too. There was a short, rather scary-looking woman marching across the floor, looking downright furious. Her foreign accent, one that Jack couldn’t identify, was thick as she said, “Why you out of bed?”

She poked him in the chest threateningly, and Ryan was only able to stammer out, “Uh –”

“No ‘uhs’! Any more ‘uhs’ and I admit you!”

Ryan paled. “It’s just a sprain!” he sputtered angrily.

“No care!” she said loudly. “No argument, either. You!” she suddenly said, spinning to face Jack. “You patient? Out of bed?”

“I – uh –”

“No ‘uhs’!” she exclaimed with ferocity. “You no patient, you go to waiting room!”

“Can you help me find two people first?” Jack said. When she didn’t seem to budge, he begged, “Please, I came in with them and no one is telling me how they are. It’s been hours.”

Her face softened by a fraction. She seemed to deliberate for a long few seconds. “Who you looking for?” she finally asked.

“Our two unaccounted people, Geoff Ramsey and Michael Jones,” Jack said, deciding to give her the boys that they’d yet to talk to yet.

She nodded curtly. “Both in scans,” she said, and began to guide Ryan away with a small hand on his back.

“Do you know what for?” Jack asked quickly.

“Shoulder and head.”

“What?”

“Ramsey shoulder and Jones head!” she said impatiently, starting to walk away.

“Can we see them?” Jack asked desperately.

“Not while in scans,” she shot back, and left with a defeated Ryan. Jack looked towards the scanning room doors where Michael had been walked into, but they were now open, Michael probably long gone. Jack growled in frustration.

Meeting eyes with Ray, they shared a helpless expression.

“Great.”

—-

Geoff woke up to something warm wrapped around his middle. Blinking blearily up at the ceiling, his muddled mind wasn’t able to lift his own head enough to look down, so he settled with patting a clumsy hand around on the bed, feeling blindly around until knocking into something solid and warm. A barely moving lump was spread out over his lower waist, the majority of it nestled against his left thigh. When his hand rested on the crest of the lump, it heaved a great sigh from under the covers.

Geoff smiled to himself and purposefully synchronized their breathing. Curious as to which one of his lovers had managed to find his room, he carefully lifted the sheet and peered down, smirking when spotting a familiar head of curls.

Michael’s face was pressed into his bare thigh, the feel of bare skin on bare skin just now registering. Puffs of warm breath washed over his flesh, the sensation oddly calming.

Setting the sheet back down, Geoff sighed. It was nearly light outside, sometime in the early morning. He’d stayed the night, spend the entire time without even speaking to one of his lovers.

He woke Michael up for entirely selfish reasons, suddenly struck with the need to talk to him. Though he was sad to have to rouse his bed-partner, Geoff pulled back the sheets once more but this time threw them so they no longer covered the younger.

“Michael,” he whispered, gently shaking the redhead’s shoulder. “Michael, wake up.”

“Hnugh?” Michael groaned, smacking his lips as his eyes slit open. Geoff smiled at his drowsy mumble, the messy mop of hair wild and untamed. Eyes barely half-opened, he slurred, “What’zit, Geoff?”

Laughing, Geoff said, “What?”

Michael seemed to give up, just collapsing back into his warm spot against Geoff’s left leg. Geoff could feel his forceful huff of agitation against his thigh.

He combed fingers through Michael’s hair as he waited for the younger to emerge once more. He snickered at Michael’s annoyed mumble every time he got caught on a tangle.

“Geoff,” he heard the redhead whisper after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Geoff whispered back.

Michael paused. “Are you alright?”

“’M fine,” Geoff said. “Look – already got my sling on and everything. I asked for a green one, but they didn’t have anything other than blue.” There was a pause. “Are you okay?”

Michael took a surprisingly long amount of time to answer. “Scared,” he said finally. “Have you seen anyone else?”

“No, but I’m positive they’re fine. Are you hurt?” Geoff asked more specifically, knowing that Michael took notes from Ryan and could easily slip around a question if it wasn’t direct enough.

“Not really,” Michael sighed, going quiet. Geoff waited, knowing that Michael hated silences.

He had to admit, he was a little surprised, not to mention suspicious, when Michael let the pause continue. Until, that is, a soft snore vibrated against his leg. He laughed, throaty and joyous, patting Michael’s head affectionately.

“Mr. Ramsey?” a voice from the doorway said. A brunette nurse was standing there clutching a clipboard and looking extremely nervous.

“Yeah? Sorry – I – he’s with me,” Geoff said, face flushing with embarrassment. “I – see, he was in the same car as me –”

“That’s Mr. Jones, isn’t it?” she asked, and to Geoff’s confusion, she sounded fearful.

“Yeah, Michael Jones.”

“Is he… bothering you?”

Geoff was almost offended at the question. “Does it look like he’s bothering me?” he asked, slightly angry. “I just told you, he’s with me. I wouldn’t vouch for him if he was bothering me.”

“Sorry, sir,” the nurse apologized, still looking incredibly nervous. She didn’t enter the room, instead talking to him from the hallway. “He was just causing a bit of… trouble last night.”

Geoff’s eyebrow ticked in annoyance, at who he wasn’t sure. “Trouble?” he prompted when she started to look panicked as Michael shifted in his sleep.

“Screaming, violent, had to be restrained,” she said quietly. Geoff clenched his jaw. “Doctor Becca took care of him – she’s originally from Psych, so…”

“He’s not bothering me,” Geoff said, understanding now of her behavior.

She nodded, looking relieved. “He’s still Becca’s patient,” she said uneasily. “Technically. So I have to tell her he’s in here… but honestly, I don’t really want to deal with him. He’s scary.”

Geoff scoffed. “He’s not actually that intimidating once you get to know him.”

“He was pretty… out of it last night, then,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

Michael sniffed from below him. “I wasn’t out of it,” he said disdainfully, not coming out of the covers.

“Sure,” Geoff said agreeably.

Michael popped out from the sheets, looking flustered. “I was  _concerned,_ ” Michael said forcefully, jabbing a finger at Geoff. His eyes were narrowed. “Excuse me for being worried!”

“You’re always worried,” Geoff told him, ruffling his hair and ignoring Michael’s sour expression, laughing. “You have a loud voice, but she shouldn’t have been  _scared_ of you.”

Michael bristled at Geoff’s scolding tone. “I wouldn’t have hit her, or anyone for that matter!”

Geoff just sighed and rolled his eyes, dropping it. His hand slid from the redhead’s hair to his shoulder, frowning at the clammy skin. “Are you cold?”

“No?” Michael said. “Are you?”

Geoff rolled his eyes at the annoying trait that he’d picked up from Gavin, the deflection of the question frustrating and quite obvious. With gentle fingers, he touched the tender inside of Michael’s arm. The skin was chilled and shivered under his light graze, Michael yanking back with a yelp.

“That tickled!” he hissed, rubbing at the spot.

“Sorry,” Geoff said dismissively. “Do you still have a concussion?”

“Don’t think so,” Michael mumbled, shaking his head.

“Hm,” Geoff hummed. He was about to say more, but was cut off by the door opening once more.

“Mr. Ramsey,” an unfamiliar nurse said, nose in her chart. “Would you be up for company – oh,” she jumped, eyes widening. “I see you already have some.”

Geoff couldn’t help but to laugh at the nurses’ shocked expression.

“Company?” Michael said quickly, eyes brightening. He didn’t seem to notice her obvious discomfort, but Geoff did. She was looking at Michael as if he was going to spring off the bed any second and take a chunk out of her arm with his teeth. “Company who? The guys we came in with?” his words were slurred with excitement.

“Y-yes,” she said, looking down at her chart. “Mr. Pattillo, Mr. Free, and Mr. Narvaez have all been discharged, but Haywood was taken into X-Ray a few hours ago and they found a fracture in his ankle. After we put a cast on, he’ll also be released.”

“And they can come in?” Geoff said hopefully.

She looked oddly bitter. “Generally we have a two-person at a time policy,” she said. “But I’ve been told it’s fine.”

Geoff beamed, a happy flush blooming in his cheeks.

“Send them in!” Michael demanded, grinning. When the nurse practically ran from the room, Geoff slapped him upside the head. Michael seemed to freeze, looking surprised.

“Be more polite,” Geoff admonished, shaking his head in disbelief. “I know it’s been a tough night, buddy, but you’re  _never_ this rude to strangers, especially when they’re trying to help you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Michael said grumpily. “I just don’t feel very good.”

“Aftereffects of the concussion?” Geoff asked, sympathetically running his hand through Michael’s hair, brushing the wayward strands away from the younger’s forehead.

“Does a concussion give you a stomachache?” Michael asked sourly, heaving a great sigh. “I know the dizziness and headache shit is part of hitting my head, but this is… annoying.”

“I think you’re just still upset,” Geoff said soothingly. “It’ll take a little bit to get back to normal. People sometimes even PTSD from car accidents, so don’t be embarrassed –”

“I’m not still upset like that,” Michael said hastily. He wouldn’t meet Geoff’s eyes.

“Do you think somethings wrong?” Geoff said, frowning.

Michael looked away guiltily while nervously fiddling with the hem of his hospital gown. Geoff narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Are you –?”

“Geoff!” a familiar British accent shrieked. Michael flinched at the echoing sound. “Michael!”

Ray barely caught the Brit before he jumped on the bed, presumably to wrap his arms around Geoff in a welcoming hug. Geoff was eternally grateful for Ray’s quick thinking, but still grinned hugely at Gavin. The Brit’s face was a little bruised, especially his eye, which was turning a deep shade of purple, but he seemed refreshed, as if he’d just taken his first deep breath in days. Geoff glanced over his shoulder to see a smiling Ray, and behind him was Jack and Ryan, the former helping the latter navigate his way into the room. Ryan, who was also looking a little beat up, was sporting a pair of crutches and was looking frustrated as he allowed Jack to guide him through the doorway. Nonetheless, both men gave Geoff and Michael large smiles when they finally entered.

“Shouldn’t you be getting a cast on?” Geoff asked teasingly, even as his chest filled with warmth from seeing his boys again.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping alone?” Ryan laughed, smiling at Michael. The redhead didn’t seem to be quite tuned into the conversation and stared blankly at Ryan, causing Geoff’s stomach to clench. An odd trickle of dread started to build inside of him.

“Or at least invite all of us,” Ray added, grinning and patting Michael’s shoulder. Geoff’s unease amplified when he caught Ray’s fleeting frown as the Puerto Rican pulled away, hand lingering a bit long on Michael’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see, y’all,” Jack said, obviously immune to the rather strange tension currently filling the room. “Damn, is it good.”

Geoff cringed at Jack’s heavy-loaded tone. “Don’t get all sentimental on me, Jack,” he warned playfully, wagging a finger at the bearded man. “I don’t think my stomach could stand it.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grinned.

Geoff looked at each of them individually, scanning up and down all of the bodies. He knew that the nurse wouldn’t lie to him, but he knew that sometimes they would lie to a nurse. Especially if one of the others was in trouble. “Everyone okay?” he asked in a loud voice, making it known that he wasn’t fucking around.

A chorus of ‘yeah’ and ‘yep’ was sung back to him. He smiled in approval, feeling a hand slip into his. It was cold and clammy, but clung to his tightly, squeezing his in a reassuring gesture.

“And you, Geoff?” Gavin asked, looking nervously at the sling.

Geoff rolled his eyes. “Have to have this damn thing for a while,” he said. “And I can’t shrug. But other than that… the pain pills they have me on is pretty damn nice. I can’t believe no one got seriously injured.”

Gavin chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed, opposite Michael, who was still perched against Geoff’s leg. A quick glance down told him that Michael’s hand was the one intertwined with his. The redhead gave him a small smile when Geoff looked up at him.

Conversation slowly lapsed into mundane territory, such as insurance costs, car repairs, and who was going back to work when. Geoff was heavily involved with the more serious topics with Jack and Ryan, while the lads talked in gracious tones and carefully checked one another out, similar to a pack of wolves checking over their own for injuries.

After the conversation faded down, no one wanted to leave, even though visiting hours were coming to a close. Geoff suspected it was Michael’s presence that scared away any nurses that attempted to get the out patients to leave the room, but he couldn’t find himself to be upset with the redhead as they all gathered around Geoff’s bed, some sitting on, some hanging off, and some simply standing, but all seeming content just to be around the others. It had been a long few days.

The medical staff finally took Ryan about twenty minutes after visiting hours ended, but didn’t say anything to the rest of the men. It made Geoff smile, knowing that he was allowed a free pass for once, even if it was given unwillingly and under the pretense of fear.

“Geoff?” Ray asked quietly after Ryan had slumped out of the room. The tattooed man gave himself a little shake.

“Yeah?”

“You okay? You were zoning out there for a sec,” Ray said uncertainly. Geoff was almost positive that Ray also had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but the Puerto Rican seemed unaware of where it was coming from, while Geoff had a slight inkling of suspicion.

“I’m good,” Geoff assured him. “Just glad that we’re all alright.”

Jack studied him for a long moment. “It wasn’t your fault, I hope you know.”

Geoff shook his head. “It was a little,” he mused. “But I’m not going to blame myself for the accident. We weren’t the ones that caused it, after all. But I  _did_ drive us straight, head-first into another car. That one was my fault.”

“You were avoiding the crash!” Gavin rebuffed. “If we’d hit the others cars, we probably would’ve killed someone.”

Geoff shrugged half-heartedly and cringed, feeling pain lance up his neck. Jack caught the grimace and smiled at him, patting his leg in comfort.

“You still look a little… distant,” Ray prompted. Geoff smothered a wince, knowing where the younger man was going with this. He wasn’t concerned about Geoff - he was subtly asking if he felt an odd, almost tangible tense in the air. Ray was far too much like him.

Geoff decided to simply tell him. “I have a bad feeling,” he said bluntly. The others in the room seemed surprised at his confession, save for Ray, who was looking unhappy. Geoff could sympathize. He’d probably been hoping that it was all in his head.

Frowning, Ray said, “I do, too. Maybe it’s just something dumb.”

Geoff bit his lip, eyes sliding over to Michael, who was stonily silent and had been for a few hours. The redhead’s face was gray, his mouth screwed up in a discontented frown. His eyes seemed duller the longer Geoff looked at him, and while Michael was looking back, he wasn’t really  _looking_ back.

Ray followed his gaze. “Michael, you okay?”

Michael looked to the side, the first sign of life Geoff had seen from him in the past few hours. He nodded, and blinked slowly, obviously displaying that he was simply tired. Geoff felt an uncomfortable itch start up in the back of his brain - Michael rarely ever shut up, much less passed up an opportunity to loudly bitch or complain.

“Back!” Ryan sang gleefully as he clumped through the door. The crutches were bulky and hard to navigate with, but Ryan seemed to be getting better at using them already. “I can have the cast off in a few weeks if I’m good.”

Gavin was staring worriedly at Michael as he bluntly said, “Ryan, something’s wrong.”

Ryan looked alarmed as he came up short to the bed, looking close to despair. Geoff could understand - they didn’t need another goddamn tragedy.

“What?” he said with increasing dismay. “What’s wrong?”

“Michael?” Ray said gently to the redhead as he sat on the bed gingerly, a calming hand placed on his back. “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

Michael was still, eyes locked onto something on the far wall. He was utterly unresponsive, but Geoff could see the wheels spinning frantically in his mind, obviously trying to fight back whatever was currently raging in his brain. His gaze was dead and a little haunting, causing the glances to be shared amongst the room to be riddled with worry.

“I’m gonna call a nurse, Michael.” Gavin said nervously. He didn’t move, instead staring intently at Michael, waiting to see Michael’s response.

For the first time, Michael tore his gaze away from the wall and met Gavin’s eyes. His mouth was pressed firmly together and his face was deathly pale. The entire room was holding its breath, waiting for the redhead to say something, but all he did was shake his head, clearly refusing to open his mouth.

“Michael! I’m gonna call a bloody code black or green or black green if you don’t answer me!” Gavin grabbed his hand and tugged on his arm, demanding a reaction from Michael.

Incite a reaction he did indeed.

Michael’s body lurched, chest heaving as he let out a wet, rattling gasp. The moment his mouth open, a bright red liquid came dribbling out, dripping from his chin and onto the bedspread. The room erupted in screams and yells, and while Michael at first tried to stem the sudden flow of crimson vomit, he seemed to lose all energy after a few second, instead clutching his stomach as he fell backwards off the bed.

Geoff scrambled to his feet, sliding around in the puddle of blood before finally managing to crouch next to the lad. Michael retched again, this time a thick stream of what looked like coffee grounds pouring out of his mouth. Geoff himself gagged but fought it back. He could hear more screaming breaking out from the other side of the bed, and looked up to see Ray and Ryan on their knees on Michael’s other side. Gavin and Jack were out of the room and scouring the halls for a doctor, their panicked voices calling back and forth down the isles.

Blood covered the redhead’s mouth and nose, looking horrendous and scary, but he was able to draw shaky breath. Eyes watering, Michael wrapped an arm around his middle and gave a pained, quivering gasp. His airways must’ve been coated in liquid because with every inhale, Geoff could hear a wet rattle come from deep in his throat.

A frothy substance was building in his mouth, but Michael hacked a vicious cough and spat it out, nose crinkled in disgust when a glob of goopy blood came with it. After a few tense heartbeats, when Michael seemed to be done, Geoff gently but firmly placed his hands on either side of Michael’s face and looked into his eyes.

“A concussion doesn’t make you vomit blood,” Ryan whispered, looking horrified. He was clutching Jack for support, looking like he was about to pass out.

More blood burbled up, spilling from Michael’s lips as he made an agonized expression, clutching his stomach once more. Tearful eyes filled with fear met Geoff’s, and the tattooed man’s heart seemed to stall in his chest. He’d never seen the younger man look at him like that before.

“Michael,” Geoff started, voice weak and begging, but was cut off when a group of doctors came skidding around the bed. They pried Geoff’s hands off him, eliciting a cry of pain from the redhead. Geoff nodded at them and backed off willingly, knowing that they were what Michael needed right now, no matter how much Michael was struggling to fend them off.

“Michael, let them help you!” Jack burst in anger, face pale. He was standing by the door and was almost pushed over when a group of medical personnel came barreling through the doorway with a gurney.

“Where are his charts?” one of them, a tall black man, demanded. He looked around the room, taking in the clueless expressions. “Whose room is this?”

“Mine,” Geoff said weakly. “He’s – he’s – Becca, or something?”

The man’s eyes darkened in understanding. He gave one of the many nurses bustling around a single look before they were off through the halls. Geoff looked at Michael, watching nervously as four or five nurses and doctors lifted him off the floor, ignoring his timid protests and dodging his ineffective fists. There was blood all down the front of his hospital gown, soaking into the material rather quickly and giving Michael the appearance of something from a Halloween Horror House.

The nurse that had left only seconds ago came flying back into the room. “His name is Michael Jones!” she said, shoving a chart into the doctor’s hands. “Part of the car crash off 81. Came in with a concussion, but scans showed nothing.”

The doctor, who seemed to be the one in charge, looked over the chart as his coworkers finally managed to heft a squirming Michael onto the gurney. He opened his mouth to say something, the corner of his lips twisted into a frown, but a sharp gasp from Gavin cut him off.

Geoff craned his neck over the gaggle of people surrounding the redhead to get a look at what Gavin was seeing. They’d just pulled up Michael’s shirt, revealing a large bruise, black and red and all shades that skin shouldn’t be colored, covering his entire stomach and part of his ribs. Geoff felt queasy just from looking at it, but his confusion continued to increase.

“Intra-abdominal bleeding,” one of the nurses said appreciatively. He pressed gingerly to the side of the bruise and frowned. “Surgery, now.”

“What?” Geoff said tonelessly.

“He’s bleeding into his abdomen,” the doctor said, pulling Geoff’s attention from whatever they were doing to Michael. “Has be been complaining of any stomach pain? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”

“No, none of those things,” Gavin said, shaking his head, but Geoff was shaking his head for a different reason.

“He said he had a stomach ache this morning,” Geoff whispered, feeling as if his heart had collapsed in his chest. “And – and dizziness.”

One of the nurses was holding two fingers to Michael’s neck, frowning supposedly at his pulse before peering into the redhead’s glassy eyes. Michael seemed to have gone completely limp, shivering and looking deathly pale. The blood on his face was stark against his ashy pallor. “He’s going into shock,” she said to the doctor. The black man nodded, looking solemn.

“Take him to Operating Room Two,” he said before turning to face Geoff and the rest. “Those of you who are patients at this hospital, go back to your rooms. The rest, please go wait in the waiting room. I’m sorry, but we’ll have more news for you when he’s out of surgery.”

“W-What?” Gavin stuttered, looking almost as pale as Michael. “What do you mean go wait in the waiting room? What’s wrong with him? He was fine just a few minutes ago!”

Geoff shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling a tear trickle down his cheek as the doctor said in a morbid voice, “He has internal bleeding. Judging by the look of that vomit, it’s been in his stomach for a while. He’s bleeding out, into his organs. We’re going to open him up and stop the bleeding. Though I can’t say for certain, I believe he will be alright, given enough time. A blood transfusion will replace what’s been lost and by circulating more blood in his system, his body should begin functioning normally. Then we treat the shock.”

No one replied, stunned and motionless by the news. Geoff was millimeters from throwing himself to the floor and beating himself bloody - he fucking  _knew_ something was wrong, he didn’t even ask -

“Mr. Ramsey?”

Geoff looked up, eyes wet. “What?”

“Do you have contact information for his family?”

“I - yeah,” Geoff whispered, feeling numb.

“Do you need it?” Gavin asked shrilly, looking angry. “If you need to contact his family - he’s dying!”

The doctor shook his head quickly, raising his hands in a calming manner when Gavin began to work himself up. “This is major surgery to a life-threatening injury. I don’t believe it necessary for them to come, for instance, but it’s best his parents and siblings are aware of his condition.”

“And what should we tell them?” Ryan asked coldly.

“He’s in surgery for internal bleeding after being involved in a car crash,” the doctor said neutrally, unfazed by Ryan’s coolness. “Tell them the chances are good.”

Geoff nodded, and though the words should’ve relieved some of the pressure on his chest, he couldn’t help but feel like he was drowning. His nose suddenly very stuffy, he murmured, “Okay. Thank you, doctor. Please…  _please_ keep us updated.”

The doctor smiled warmly as he walked towards the door. “We should be done within a few hours.”

After he left, a shocked, dazed sort of silence filled the room. No one spoke, no one even moved. And then Jack slowly guided Ray and Gavin, who were looking comatose, towards the door. No one was looking for comfort yet. They had been unexpectedly thrown into the stage of shock associated with a trauma. Geoff knew they were probably beginning to blame themselves for not realizing something was wrong with Michael, the redhead having been quiet and reserved all day. He also felt angry at himself - a deep hatred budding in his throat. Michael had fucking mentioned having a stomachache. Geoff had assumed it was something like nausea related to a concussion.

Wordlessly, the others left, and he was left alone in his room to antagonize over his thoughts.

—-

Michael was pretty sure his stomach was on fire.

Despite the burning fury ripping through his intestines, he couldn’t find it in him to move. His muscles were utterly lax and unresponsive, feeling like strings of thin pasta as he laid sprawled out in a bed. His toes and fingers tingled as they twitched with the desperate effort to claw at his searing skin, his flesh feeling as if it were being split apart at the seams.

He sucked in air as if through a straw, unable to draw proper breath. He could hear quiet voices murmuring in the distance, something shifting his hair around on his head in gentle strokes. Then there was a low click and something warm seeped into his bloodstream, filling his body instantly with comfortable heat. The wash of this new chemical brought his mind around despite the pain.

A very distinct, very familiar giggle suddenly burst through the film over his ears. “What was that?” he heard Gavin snort, his voice clear and close. His eye lids fluttered with an attempt to open them.

“I think he’s coming to,” Ryan said somewhere to his left.

“More like just  _cumming,_ ” Ray snickered, eliciting a muffled laugh from Gavin.

“Michael?” Geoff’s voice said gently, ignoring the others and cradling Michael’s face. The sensation was vivid and made his heart skip a beat, the skin to skin contact something similar to an electric jolt.

His throat vibrated with a noise, but it sounded odd to his ears. He heard Gavin giggling again, but someone shushed him. Probably Jack.

He opened his gritty eyes, making a weak sound of protest when bright neon lights assaulted his vision. Almost instantly, a face was in front of his, blocking the obnoxious lights from Michael’s line of sight. His eyesight swam with black dots as he squinted at the face, belatedly realizing it was Geoff.

“Hi, there,” Geoff smiled, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the redhead.

“Hullo,” Michael breathed, heart fluttering. With sore eyes, he raked the room, catching the gazes of all of his boyfriends. When he clenched his stomach in preparation for sitting up, he immediately stopped, narrowing his eyes in pain and hissing, “Fucking  _ow._ ”

Even speaking hurt. There was another click from somewhere by Ryan and his veins warmed once more. The pain in his abdomen ebbed, leaving a hollow, pleasantly numb feeling in his gut. He heard Ray chuckle and opened his eyes again, having not realized he’d closed them.

“I bet that feels good,” Ryan whispered to Jack, who smirked and nodded.

“Morphine,” Ray supplied when Michael just looked confused.

“Why?” Michael croaked, the word barely audible. His throat felt coated in sandpaper, raw and stinging when he swallowed.

“Geoff’s face hardened. “You had internal injuries. That’s what caused the stomach ache.”

Michael could feel the blood drain from his face. Ray was quick to say, “You’re all patched up now, though. You’ve been under for a while, but your stitches are doing good and we should be able to go home soon.”

“Internal… whatever?” Michael slurred, getting halfway through his thought before just giving up and tacking a question mark at the end in the hopes that one of the boys would figure out what he was asking.

Geoff tried to smother his grimace. “It’s fixed now,” he said slowly. “Everything’s all right.”

Michael mulled his thoughts over. “Scar?” he finally rasped.

He could see Gavin roll his eyes. “Of course he’s worried about whether or not it’d leave a mark.”

“Shh,” Jack shushed him, elbowing Gavin in the ribs. “Like it wouldn’t be  _your_ first concern either.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Ray said softly, pulling everyone’s attention back. He patted Michael’s hand reassuringly, but the redhead could barely feel it through the odd heavy feeling coursing through his blood.

Michael struggled to speak more clearly than his half-assed slurs he’d been pulling off so far and said, “That’s another way of saying yes.”

Geoff grinned. “Are you feeling better?” he asked seriously, eyes searching Michael’s face.

“Hard to think,” Michael said honestly, but he figured lying wouldn’t do anyone any good right now. “Stomach hurts a bit.”

He could see Geoff’s brow crease with anxiety. Michael looked at Jack when the bearded man made a loud sniff.

“Not your fault, Geoff,” he said sharply, as if he’d been thinking the words for a while now. Michael switched his gaze back to Geoff, frowning. What wasn’t Geoff’s fault? Geoff didn’t do anything, as far as Michael was aware.

“Wha?” Michael blurted when Geoff didn’t reply, instead glaring at the bed sheets.

“It was my fault,” Geoff whispered, grimacing. “Not only did I fucking cause this, I didn’t even notice when one of us was hurt. I – I fucked up –”

Ray cut him off with a slap to the back of his head. “Stop it,” he said firmly. “Unless you did it on purpose… then we might need to talk. But otherwise, don’t be ridiculous, Geoffrey. We love you.”

Geoff looked like he might faint, or possibly puke. Obviously he disagreed with Ray’s view, but he fell silent, and even in Michael’s heavily drugged state, he could see the weight lifted off Geoff’s shoulders – the intense relief swimming in his gray eyes.

“Are you hungry, Michael?” Ryan asked kindly, pointing to a tray of food off to the side, on a cart. It was half-eaten.

At Michael’s unimpressed stare, Ryan added, “Someone doesn’t understand the idea of courtesy,” accompanied with a stern glare at Gavin. Michael smiled and nodded, allowing Jack and Geoff to carefully help him sit up.

And even though Michael could barely talk, contributing practically nothing to the conversation, he could feel it when the group lapsed seamlessly into normality, despite the unpleasant coldness of the hospital room. They warmed it with their presence alone, and the laughter and smiles did wonders on Michael’s heart, until Geoff too was also giggling and talking among the rest.

And if Michael was a little more touchy-feely than normal towards Geoff, no one mentioned it, especially not Geoff, who leaned heavily into every single touch.


End file.
